this is 4 alfie 2 read
by Antony Bellows
Summary: it stops abruptly but i'm gonna rewrite it and change things


"Oi, oi, oi. Trafalgar, what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

A warm hand jostled my shoulder; my eyes trying to focus on the deck I laid collapsed on when a flash of brilliant red entered my vision. My body felt heavy, my head too, as I attempted to see the figure better. Painted lips mouthed words, my ears catching the sound but my brain unable to comprehend. I lifted my hand to their face, in hopes of consoling their frantic mood.

The figure caught my roaming hand, pressing it against their pale cheek. My hazy sight slowly focusing, I gazed at the man's anguished expression. Red trailed down his temple under a pair of goggles, glazing over old scars. Mindlessly, my hand traced circles on his skin, eventually reaching his hairline where I combed my fingers through his partly blood soaked hair. It was a familiar feeling; my eyelids felt incredibly heavy.

"Trafalgar!" he calls, frightened. "Stay with me! Oi!"

My voice is dry and hoarse. "S-sh-shhut… up…. You know… I don't… take orders."

He lets out a breathless choked laugh. "I hate you so much." What a poor liar. A large mechanical arm coiled around my waist, the cold of the metal was quickly ignored as I was pulled into a snug embrace. I laughed into his shoulder, the sound forced; a pain rippling through my chest at the motion.

"Kiss me," I demanded.

The man eagerly complied: pressing his lips harshly against mine, my fingers further tangling in his matted locks, his arms tightly wrapping around me. His tongue traced my lower lip but didn't probe further, his breath hot smothering my flushed cheeks. As we pulled apart, his hand caught my limp head, the strength draining from me. I caressed his temple to his chin before letting my arm fall; he looked at me with agonized eyes.

A swift _whoosh_ flew through the air and suddenly an enormous crack shattered my eardrums.

In an instant, I was wretched away from his arms. An explosion blasted his backside, the force flinging my body and debris across the ship's deck. I smashed into the railing; my limbs crumbling in unnatural, painful positions beneath me, a plank of wood lodged itself sharply into my shoulder. I gritted my teeth together, letting out only a strained grunt escape. My eyelashes fluttered open and closed, fighting to stay conscious, my eyes desperately searching for the previous man. I let out a hitched gasp.

On his knees, his eyes wide and white, the man trembled, a large gap visible from his chest. As he inhaled pained breaths, blood flooded down, squirting disgustingly out of the hole, his organs spilling out. I retched my stomach up onto the deck, the vile liquid mixing with the never-ending pool of blood, continuing until it felt as if there was no liquid left in me. I coughed, spewing up the final round, debating on looking back at him.

Snot and tears dripped down my face as I shook violently, forcing myself to gaze upon him, as a doctor and as his companion. The man had dropped to his hands, a steady flow of blood gushing from him, soaking the area. He appeared to be attempting to stand.

Grasping my injured arm, I scrambled to my knees; I screamed, recognizing the sound very faintly as my hearing attempted to return after the blow from the explosion. I crawled out from under the rubble, my legs screeching at the movement; not caring as I drenched myself in my own waste. Loud sobs escaped from me, catching his attention; his eyes, half-lidded focused on my disgusting appearance. I reached my arm towards him, crying loudly.

"EUSTAAA**ASS-YAAA!"**

Law lurched from his bed, screaming at the top of his lungs.

His eyes flickered around the room, terrified and confused by the sudden awakening. Sweat dripping down his body, Law panted loud ragged breaths, trying to calm down. His heart pounded, as if attempting to break free from his rib cage.

"Shhh, shhhit…" he huffed softly between large gulps of air. "Not again…"

He curled his knees up to his chest and rested his head between his knees gasping for air. Pushing his forehead against his arms, rolling his shoulders and trailing his shaking fingers down his skin as he did so to make sure it was really just a dream. His stomach felt hollow, his desire to throw up was somehow being barely sustained. Everything was too hot.

Exhausted eyes trailed over to the alarm clock. 4:23 AM.

Law sighed, kicking his feet off the bed and onto the chilly hardwood floor. His legs felt liquidy, like jelly. He braced against the walls as he stumbled into the hallway towards the bathroom. Not bothering to turn on the lights, Law squatted next to the toilet, puking up his pathetic excuse for dinner into the porcelain bowl.

Everything felt heavy and weak. His head spinning, his breathing harsh; all he could think of was all that blood. The image burned into his skull, the horrific scene so fucking recognizable it hurt. He hated this.

Finally, feeling satisfied that the contents of his stomach were stationary; he punched the handle, flushing the toilet, and twisted the faucet for the sink. Icy water surged forth, wetting Law graciously. He splashed his hot and bothered face and neck, relieved to feel his pulse had slowed some. He spat into the running water, taking in painfully slow breaths, he should be used to this acidic taste by now.

It was the fifth time this month he had dreamt about "Eustass-ya".

Afraid to look at his current state, Law slipped out of the bathroom, pacing back to his room, his face still dripping some, but the chill was calming. Though he had no intents to go back to sleep, he pulled his blanket off the floor and slipped back into his bed. He breathed out, pulling his arms behind his head; he stared up at the ceiling, deep in thought.

Probably six years had passed since he started remembering "Eustass". Every dream was set in the same world, out on a vast sea, under a jolly roger. Every dream he met up with the man: fighting, playing, and romanticizing with each other. Each time, Law was cruelly yanked from the man at the last moment and awoke in a cold sweat. Each time, Law was left yearning for a man he had never met in this life.

Law glanced to the clock again, disappointed at how little time had passed. He rolled over; pulling his knees to his chest and hugging them close. He stared at the wall; hoping sleep would take him quickly.

In the past years, Law had seen numerous situations with the man, some more inappropriate than others. They weren't dreams but remains of the previous Trafalgar Law—the "Surgeon of Death" Law, the captain of the Heart Pirates, Law, the infamous pirate, Law. He didn't understand why he retained these memories, or if they were even real, or why he only recently started recollecting them. Nearly every day, he thought about his crew, he thought about his friends, his enemies, and he dreamt about Kid.

The thought of the man excited and aggravated Law; recalling many times he encountered the hotheaded pirate. Each dream leaving him somewhat depressed and lonely. However, never before had he been so disturbed by such a sight. While he felt tired, he didn't want to try risking it again. He stared back at the wall contemplating the meaning of the man's death, and his own near-death experience. Law knew death; he grew up with it and worked with death nearly every day. It disturbed him how much he cared about an imaginary character's life; so much so that the mere thought of such a situation made him nauseous again.

Having returned to a calm, controlled state, Law was left in his eerily quiet room, listening to his breathing and the occasional car zoom by outside his apartment. He tried picturing Kid's face, smiling.

The next morning Law was startled awake by the loud thunder of trains leaving the station, signaling the start of a new day. He groaned, feeling the full effects of only an hour of sleep, and turned to his clock. The red numbers glared at him, he was up an hour before his alarm.

Law rubbed his eyes, knowing he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep; he awkwardly slumped out of his warm bed. A string of curses slipped his lips when his feet touched his icy floor, he padded to the bathroom. As he entered, the memories of the previous night returned to him, he stared in the mirror, noticing his new grimace. His eyes bloodshot, the dark circles more prominent than ever; and his hair stuck up in every which way direction but that was nothing new.

A couple of minutes later, Law was more composed, turning into his kitchen; donned in a hoodie and jeans to combat his apartments severe lack of heating, he started brewing some coffee. Law didn't spend a lot of time in his kitchen; he spent most of his time studying or at work. Law was in his third year of college, studying to be a doctor, and working two jobs to get him through school. The only time he spent to himself was time he was supposed to be using to catch up on much needed sleep.

While his coffee maker started dripping into his mug, Law made his way over to the table to gather his stuff. Medical textbooks, research papers, and such were thrown about in a haphazard manner after a tiring day. Picking up his bag, he loaded it up with junk for his morning classes; he could be early today, he decided.

He shrugged on an overcoat and rested the bag's strap over his shoulder. The last sputters of the coffee maker announced it was done; leaving it unsweetened, Law poured the black liquid in a travel mug. He swiped his wallet and keys, grabbed his hat, and left.

The brisk autumn air nipped at him, cooling off his coffee as he walked down the rusty stairs of his apartment building. He was tired, but that was expected, the images of Kid's death still haunting him, Law felt rather in a daze. The sounds of cars and people blurring into a dull murmur in the back of his mind, he didn't really think about where he was going, his feet slowly wandering down the street.

Sometimes he wishes he could experience it for himself again, his life as a pirate. He ended up getting the same tattoos, when he was 18, and the same piercings, far before he started remembering, as if it was fate. He retained his love of knowledge, his curiosity, sadistic nature, and personality. He was the same Law, and, despite living his whole life in this world, he felt out of place. Sometimes he'd catch glimpses of people he once knew, but it was never really them. He missed Bepo the most.

Law looked up when a taxi honked at him. The light to cross was green; he hadn't realized he had been standing at the crosswalk in a stupor. He waved a thank you at the driver who nodded back with an annoyed expression as Law strode across. Mechanically, he had started towards his university, the same route he took every weekday. His watch said he had a little more than a half hour until he need to be at school. He was resenting the thought of sitting in an empty classroom for an extra twenty minutes.

Spotting an empty bench near the shops, he maneuvered over and plopped down. His hands buried in his pockets, Law leaned back against the cold metal, tilting his head up to look at the colorless sky. It was closer to winter than autumn, he thought, letting out a milky white breath.

Sipping his too hot coffee, choosing to ignore the blatant fact that he was burning his tongue, he sighed. This city was very similar to Sabaody Archipelago, layout wise; the trees replaced with skyscrapers, the bubbles turned into puffs of chemicals and car exhaust. There was no navy here, just the police department which, to no one's surprise, Law wasn't on very good terms with either.

His thoughts returned to Kid, to his pained expression from his dream last night. Looking back on it, Law couldn't recall ever seeing such a face on Kid before. What was Law to him? What did Law think about Kid? It was a difficult feeling to place; they were rivals, but at the same time they were best friends, and other times acted like lovers. Even if he did love Kid, Law knew he'd never admit it. He chuckled absentmindedly into the crisp air.

If he did ever meet anyone again, what would he do? Would they remember as well?

Would they continue their lives of piracy somehow, in the modern world? Would they scoff at Law's madness? Law breathed out again, watching the cloud of gas curl in on itself and disappear. Could that happen to Law one day? His breathing was slightly forced, as if he had forgotten how his lungs worked and was re-teaching them to inflate and deflate. He hated this.

Noticing the cold of the bench numbing his body, Law hopped up and trudged begrudgingly towards the train station. The murmurs of the people grew into a muffled roar as he walked into the station. He paid for a ticket and pushed his way through the gate feeling claustrophobic despite the lack of people compared to his normal time. His train would arrive soon, he realized looking at the time slots.

His hands balled into fists shoved in his overcoat's pockets, he walked towards the tracks where other passengers were waiting as well. Standing safely on the platform, he stared longingly at the tracks.

He had contemplated suicide so many times but felt it a selfish and pitiful way out. His exhaustion and lonesome edged him a little to jump onto the tracks but his sleep deprived body couldn't be bothered. Law liked the train; its rickety ride reminded him of the swaying of a boat. Luffy and his crew told him all about the sea train, but he had never ridden it himself, he knew it wouldn't compare to these safer modern trains. He wondered if Kid had ever ridden the sea train.

The pounding noise of gears turning and steam puffing drew his attention from the tracks towards the end of the platform. Approaching from the distance, the train began reeling in; the awaiting passengers gathering their stuff and moving towards the platform in anticipation to board. While he dazed, the station had filled with more passengers, all lining up to embark. The train was nearly docked now.

A harsh shove from behind suddenly tipped Law. He made a discomforted "_oof!_" noise at the contact, his body tottering over. Law's neck craned to see some boys running, late for the train shoved him to get by. He threw his arms out to catch himself or grab something but there was nothing. His eyes widened, all the air had escaped him as he realized he was going to fall onto the tracks. The trains whistled loud seemly ignoring his downfall, and the machine surged full speed down the track. He never cared for the train's whistle but he loathed it entirely now as it deafeningly advanced.

He was going to die.

Law released a frightened yelp as an arm unexpectedly wound around his waist and yanked him back into the perpetrator's chest. He fell entirely against the larger frame, stunned and breathless. The surrounding passengers mostly filling into the train as if nothing had happen, the few that had been watching whisper and gasp in response to his sudden rescue. Law choked on his breath, sputtering out small pants.

"Oi, oi, oi! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Law freezes entirely at the question. His mind shuts down, his lungs pause; his hands begin to tremble at the sound of this voice. He cautiously turns in the all too familiar grip still coiled around his waist to look at his savior. His eyes widen as he stifles a gasp with his shaking fingers.

Brilliant red hair spiked up and held back with a headband draws his eyes first, following down his brow-less forehead to see bewildered piercing eyes looking back and painted lips turned into a scowl. Law's legs go weak, he slumps down and the man attempts to catch him. "Woah!"

Law looks up at him as he starts cussing Law out, obviously concerned for Law's condition and mostly sanity. His voice trembles, quietly, but the redhead doesn't hear it. "What?!"

"Eustass-ya…?" he whispers.


End file.
